


Deck The Halls

by ellie_effie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, M/M, Satinalia (Dragon Age), Skyhold (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_effie/pseuds/ellie_effie
Summary: Satinalia is coming. And even though Dorian struggles to feel at home in the South, he would never say no to a party! Especially when a certain someone asks for his help...
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 14
Kudos: 17





	Deck The Halls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_acorn (acornchild)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acornchild/gifts).



> This work was written as part of the Masked Satinalia Event as a gift for my dear Inquisitor Acorn <3

Dorian didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but that library in Skyhold was far too small. Some of the books were old, outdated. Some had been completely lost to humidity and molding. And the library itself lacked some books that were, in his opinion, essential to any respectable researcher. But Dorian would have to make the best with what little he had, especially considering that the task the Inquisition had ahead of them was nearly impossible. How does one defeat a man who claims to be a god?

“Fasta vass”, Dorian muttered under his breath when a cold gust of wind blew his papers onto the floor. Not only did he have to deal with the preposterous conditions of the library, he had to deal with this relentless cold weather! And it seemed to be more and more freezing with each passing day, if that was possible. 

He stood to shut the window, but when he looked down and saw one of the castle’s servants carrying masks, a sudden realisation dawned on him. 

Of course it was getting colder. Umbralis was approaching, and with it, Satinalia. Dorian leaned against the windowsill and, for the first time since they had arrived in Skyhold, he started to feel homesick.

Maybe not home homesick, especially since Satinalia wasn’t the most pleasant of holidays at the Pavus residence. He certainly didn’t miss watching his mother getting drunk while her food grew cold, nor his father rolling his eyes and leaving the table without a word to lock himself in his office. 

But he missed how Minrathous seemed like a completely different place, how the streets filled with people celebrating, eating and drinking together. How there were some moments of the festivities there was no telling who was a slave, a mage, an elf, a man or a woman. Of course, the masks and the alcohol helped a great deal with that. But it was a glimpse on what Tevinter could become one day, if they had the courage to consider it.

Dorian had some friends who he had shared those ideas with. Some of those friends (and even some of his lovers) would gather around the streets of Minrathous or in one of their family’s mansions to celebrate Satinalia their own way. With no parents to watch over them, the young alti would be bold enough to dream of a new, reformed Tevinter and during that week, it actually seemed possible.

But time had passed since those days. His friends (and most of his former lovers) had found spouses of their own, taken their place in the Magisterium, had children... and those conversations started to feel more and more like a youthful dream fueled by alcohol. So Dorian had spent the last three Satinalias at his parents’s home, watching his mother get drunk and ask him when she could expect grandchildren, while his father huffed and locked himself in his office.

But now he was to spend Satinalia in an old Fereldan fortress, surrounded by molding books, with an impossible task at hand. Dorian snorted humourlessly and shook his head while observing the same servant pass around the masks to some of the castle’s denizens.

“And here I was thinking you hated the cold, Dorian!”

The voice that broke the silence was warm and playful, and Dorian knew exactly who it belonged to before turning around. But before he did, Dorian took a second to regain his composure and breath through the thumping of his heart. He turned around to face the Inquisitor as nonchalantly as he possibly could.

Trevelyan was standing under the archway of the library nook Dorian usually occupied, with his arms crossed over his chest and playful a smirk and raised eyebrow. To Dorian, he looked gorgeous as ever. 

“Oh, but I do hate it! What is to enjoy about days where you’re forced to wear layers upon layers of clothing and has you sniffling like an old bronto?”

The soft chuckle Trevelyan gave at Dorian’s bad jokes was one of the most adorable things he had ever heard. With a swift duck of his head to the widow he was leaning against, Dorian took a step to the side to invite the Inquisitor to join him. In two long strides, he stood next to Dorian, looking down at the courtyard.

“Oh, they’re getting ready for Satinalia, I see!”, Trevelyan said in an excited voice. The colourful masks had been passed around and they were using some of the spare ones to decorate the yard. “That reminds me! We could do something for Satinalia, don’t you think?”

The excitement in Trevelyan’s voice was not as well hidden as he probably thought it was: the man was practically bouncing. Dorian felt the corner of his ips tugging up in a smile.

“You mean, like a party?”, Dorian asked, amused.

“Yes! It would be excellent, wouldn't it?”, the Inquisitor exclaimed, now unable to restrain himself. “It’s our first Satinalia here in Skyhold, and it would be good, after…” After what happened in Haven, Dorian finished in his head, but Trevelyan carried on. “I think we all need a moment to let our hair down and enjoy ourselves, don’t you think?”

“I do. But we have what? A week until Satinalia?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything big, I’m sure Josephine can put something together”, he said, rubbing his chin. Then, suddenly, the Inquisitor reached out his hand and placed it on Dorian’s shoulder. “Will you help, Dorian?”

Could Dorian ever deny him anything when he looked up at him with those puppy eyes?

“Of course, am--”, he bit back the word in time, and Trevelyan didn’t seem to notice. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

Trevelyan gave him one of his big, bright smiles and turned around to find Josephine, leaving Dorian to pace around his little nook, thinking of how he could help bring the party together. And about the smile he had given him before he left.

There had been kisses, nothing more than that, between the two. And always in places no one would see them: in the Inquisitor’s bedchambers, in the gardens after everyone had gone to bed, once or twice in the battlements and in the old library downstairs. Some of this discretion was at Dorian’s insistence, perhaps. It would harm the Inquisitor’s reputation to be seen canoodling the Tevinter altus in front of everyone. But truth be told, he put on a brave face, but it would harm more than Dorian’s pride should the Inquisitor decide he didn’t want to continue with their liaisons. 

But right now, Dorian had no time to waste wondering about such things. There was a Satinalia party he needed to help planning.

〰〰〰〰〰

Between that day and the party, Dorian didn’t see much of the Inquisitor: there was an urgent matter involving a nobleman in the Dales, a mysterious elven ruin discovered and even a high dragon attacking the Hinterlands. All of it had kept Trevelyan mostly away from Skyhold, leaving Dorian alone to get things going for the party. 

Well, to be perfectly fair, not absolutely alone. Nothing ever got done in the castle without the supervision of their lovely Ambassador.

“The castle looks wonderful!”, Josephine exclaimed at one of the servants, strolling into the decorated main hall. Festive banners were hanging from the high ceiling and colourful rugs made the stern, cold marble warmer and more inviting. They had been able to move the large Inquisitorial throne into the undercroft, and its place Blackwall was putting up a small stage where Maryden and other bards could perform.

“It does indeed”, Dorian agreed, lighting up the fires with a special lighter fluid that made the fires burn in multiple colours. “Vivienne did an incredible job with the decorations. She knows how to throw a party. I'll give her that.”

Vivienne was standing a few feet away from them, with one hand on her hip while the other effortlessly lifted a large banner in the air with a magic spell. 

“Dorian, darling!”, she yelled over her shoulder, “Mind the colour coordination between the banners and the fires: it’s crimson red, emerald green, amber and then indigo.We don’t want the halls to be garishly tacky, do we?” 

“We certainly don’t!”, Dorian yelled back while shooting a playful smirk at the Ambassador, who covered her mouth so Vivienne wouldn't see her giggling. 

But Josephine quickly regained her composure and straightened her back.

“Right. We have important matters to tend to. How many barrels of wine do we have?”, Josephine asked, with her brows furrowed while looking once again at the list she had been carrying for the last few days.

“Two hundred. And Varric arranged for more to be brought in later today”, Dorian replied, checking his own list. 

“That’s good!”, Josephine continued. “I wonder if we should have the kitchens bake more pies and cakes, in case the ones we have aren’t enough…” 

“No need! I got guys covered there”, Sera’s chirpy voice yelled. Before Dorian had time to wonder where she had come from, he noticed another detail that was a bit more concerning.

“Sera…”, he began slowly, trying not to seem too angry, “Is that pie on the corners of your mouth?”

The elf let out a breathy laugh while rubbing the back of her hand to wipe her face. “Yes! When you sent the request down to the kitchens, I might have asked them to double it.” As Josephine and Dorian raised their eyebrows, Sera quickly added: “I figured more pies would be better for everyone, right? I mean, I’d get some before the party, good for me”, she winked and giggled, “but then you wouldn’t have to worry your pretty Tevene head about the pies.”

Dorian actually smiled at Sera’s odd way of contributing to the party. But all was well in the end, and his pretty Tevene head did feel lighter.

“I could bake some cookies if you'd like too”, Sera said.

“No!”, both Dorian and Josephine exclaimed quickly, raising their hands at Sera. To alleviate the tension, he patted her on the shoulder. 

“Thank you so much for your help, Sera, but I believe we have enough baked goods for the party”, Dorian said, almost apologetically.

“Suit yourself.” With a shrug, Sera turned on her heels and left them.

Suddenly, Josephine slapped her own forehead. “The frilly cakes! I only ordered almond and raspberry ones. Maybe I should have ordered more variety, what if our guests are allergic?”

Dorian chuckled. “Then they won’t eat them!” Turning to face her, Dorian smiled fondly at Josephine. “My dear Ambassador, you fret too much. I could never have put this party together without your help. You have done a fantastic job.” 

Josephine smiled at him. “You as well, Dorian. The Inquisitor will be most pleased with the party, I’m sure of it.”

Trying his best to conceal a smile and the rush of heat that bursted on his cheek, Dorian asked in the most casual tone he could: “And where is our dear leader, by the way? I thought he was supposed to have arrived already.”

“Oh, he… He had to stop at Val Royeaux.” Now it was Josphine’s turn to blush and sound awkward. “He had something that he… had to get… in Val Royeaux. But I’m not sure what it is”, she added quickly.

“Will he at least arrive in time for the party?”, Dorian asked and Josephine relaxed a bit.

“Oh, yes, he will. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Josephine smiled at Dorian, and he had the clear impression that there was something behind her words he couldn’t yet understand.

〰〰〰〰〰

However, a few hours before the party was scheduled to begin, there was no sign of the Inquisitor.

Dorian pretended he wasn’t worried, as he buttoned up his fur coat and stepped into the gardens. Apparently, the Chargers were planning a firework show later, but Dorian feared the weather conditions wouldn’t be favourable, given the heavy clouds that covered the sky.

What was this Southern obsession with fireworks? Dorian knew some twenty odd spells that would provide their guests with lively and beautiful light displays, but considerably less noisy. 

Oh, well. They wouldn’t back out now. Dorian tried not to roll his eyes when Leliana had emphatically asked him to go and fetch to fireworks in the gazebo.

But as he crossed the apparently empty garden, he saw a familiar figure leaning against the archway. With a mischievous smile on his face, Trevelyan crossed the distance between them and stopped a few inches from Dorian.

“When did you get here? I didn’t see you coming through the gates…”

“Yes, well, I have an excellent spymaster, don’t I?”, Trevelyan said and winked at him.

“Indeed, you do”, Dorian said, chuckling.   
“And an excellent party planner as well”, he added. “Josie and Leliana told me of the marvelous work you’re doing. I’m sorry I couldn't be of any more help. But everything looks gorgeous in there.”

“Oh, that! A small thing, practically nothing. It was a team effort, truly.” Dorian was practically mumbling, but Trevelyan let out a throaty laugh and took Dorian’s left hand in his marked one.

“Thank you.” Dorian smiled but didn’t answer, his eyes falling on the Inquisitor’s other hand. “This is… for you”, he said sheepishly, handing Dorian a small packet.

“What is… Is this a gift? For me?”, Dorian asked and awkwardly cleared his throat, feeling stupid for being empty-handed.

“Well, yes, but if you don’t want…”, Trevelyan answered, looking down at his feet.

“Oh, no, I do!”, Dorian said hurriedly, trying to reach for the packet. “It’s just that I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t know it was a tradition to exchange gifts in the South…”

“It’s not much of a tradition, I wanted to give you this, because I saw it in Val Royeaux and thought of you…”, Trevelyan muttered.

Dorian thought he couldn’t adore him any more, until he saw the Inquisitor blushing and he felt his heart do a somersault in his chest. He took him by his chin and pulled his lips for a kiss. When they pulled apart, Trevelyan was still blushing but now had a more confident smile to accompany it.

“May I open my gift, then?”

He reached for the small package in Trevelyan’s hand. Inside the soft silken bag, tied neatly with a bow, was a book. A new one, with pages one could actually read, and Dorian smiled at the title.

“A Small Compendium of Magical Prowess in Tevinter?”, he read aloud while the corners of his mouth curled up.

“Yes, you keep complaining that our library lacks many good titles so I thought I’d buy this one, and you can use it to study, although I don’t know how much of the information would be new to you since…”

He was so nervous, rambling about the gift while looking at his hands, that Dorian couldn’t help himself.

“So this is more ‘for work purposes’ gift rather than a personal one, is that what you’re saying?”, Dorian asked teasingly, taking a step towards him.

“No! I’m not trying to imply anything, your work for the Inquisition is priceless, but I wanted to gi--” 

Dorian silenced the Inquisitor with another kiss, and as he slipped his tongue into his mouth, he felt warmer despite the falling temperature. He pulled away and rested his forehead on his.

“I loved my gift”, Dorian whispered against his lips. Trevelyan chuckled and squeezed his hand.

A small, cold drop fell on Dorian’s nose. They both looked up to see snowflakes softly falling from the sky, and Dorian was astonished to realise he didn’t mind them at all. In fact, it gave him a good reason to step closer to the man in front of him and put his arms around his waist. 

“It’s snowing!”, Trevelyan exclaimed happily, wrapping his arms around Dorian’s shoulders. He then gasped and widened his eyes at him. “Have you ever seen snow before, Dorian? Is it the first time you see snow?”

Dorian laughed. “No, I have seen snow before. In fact, it snowed quite a lot back in Haven, if you recall.” Trevelyan acquiesced awkwardly and looked up to the sky again. “But this is definitely the best time I’ve ever got to see snow”, Dorian added, running his hands on Trevelyan’s back.

“It truly is beautiful, isn't it?”, he asked giddy, looking at the sky.

“It truly is, amatus”, Dorian replied, eyes fixed on Trevelyan. This time, the word fell from his lips as easily and softly as the fresh snow hit the ground. 

For a long while, they stood there watching the snow fall. They had a few hours before the party could start and Dorian had to share him with the other guests. At that moment, they were both content with being just the two of them.


End file.
